


I Don't Care

by LycoRogue



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: 20-something Gabriel and Emilie, F/M, Gabriel and Emilie love story, Gabriel isn't a jerkface, Romance, casual update schedule, how Gabriel and Emilie met, show prequel, takes place roughly in 1997, who knows how frequently I'll update
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 18:03:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20451290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LycoRogue/pseuds/LycoRogue
Summary: Gabriel Agreste's life was safe, stable, predictable, and boring. That is, until he literally ran into a strange woman at a club; a club he didn't even want to go to. He felt instantly that this Emiile woman would forever change his life.He didn't realize how true that feeling was.





	1. Stranger in a White Dress

**Author's Note:**

> In this story, Gabriel is probably about 21 or 22, and Emilie is roughly 20 or 21. Also, since Adrien is 14 in the late 2010s, then he must have been born around the turn of the century. Assuming Emilie and Gabe were together for a little bit before having him, this story is taking place mid- to late-1990s. I'm picturing some time between 1997 and 99.
> 
> **Disclaimer: I never intended this story to be more than a one-shot, so I have no clue how frequently I'll work on it; nor do I know how long it will be once done. This will be a nice palate cleansing side-project whenever I'm stuck in my main writing. So, enjoy this casual ride through Gabriel and Emilie's romance, and see how Gabriel once was: an actually loving man.

Gabriel had no clue why he was there. The club was crowded with glistening bodies all bumping off each other, and the migraine-inducing music wasn't remotely close to anything he'd willingly listen to. Lights from the DJ booth were blinding within the otherwise dimly lit building, and the flashing made him nervous that he'd find out he had epilepsy with a glorious crash to the floor. The room smelled of sweat and stale alcohol, and even getting to the bar proved to be a challenge as he was smashed, pushed, squished, and stepped on. His prize? An over priced rocks glass of mediocre whiskey.

As he worked his way to a small, person-sized hole in the crowd, tucked in the corner by a forgotten jukebox, Gabriel wondered why he bothered with this experiment. This club wasn't his scene. He didn't dance by hopping or grinding or seemingly dislocating joints. He waltzed. He fox trotted. If he felt particularly plucky, he'd break into a jive. Regardless, he only danced as a form of exercise. It wasn't particularly fun for him. He didn't have the proper rhythm to freestyle, especially to whatever it was that the DJ was playing.

He took a sip of his whiskey, and cringed at the flavor. He then reminded himself that there weren't any better options within his price range, and took another sip. He was already regretting his decision to try out the club. He couldn't even really see anyone within the chaos. This wasn't going to be the wellspring of inspiration he originally convinced himself it would be. Leaving his small flat was a mistake.

The room became unbearably warm, and as he looked at the remaining finger of whiskey he still needed to down in order to not waste the money, he knew it would only get hotter. He sipped his drink some more and scanned the crowd, trying to convince himself to stay. His head began hurting from the loud music, straining lights, poor liquor, and suffocating heat. Knowing he was going to pay for his next decision, but convinced he was going to be in pain regardless, he chugged the last of his drink before leaving the glass on the top of the jukebox and headed for the door.

He had lasted about twenty minutes. That was worth the cover charge, right?

He wove through the mob, and his head already began to spin. He blinked to try to clear his vision, but things fogged over. His movements were hindered by the masses shuffling to their own individual destinations, and his foot caught on something.

A woman about his age cried out in surprise as he tripped into her. She stumbled backwards herself, but quickly caught on a wall, allowing her to stop Gabriel's falling.

"Sorry. I didn't mean-" Gabriel started as he scanned the floor; checking his footing before he pulled his weight off of her.

"It's quite alright. Really. This place is swarmed." She laughed, drawing Gabriel's attention finally.

She was slender and pale, and her long, swooping, golden-blonde hair gave her a classic Hollywood look. Her jaw was sharply angled, but her jade eyes were the softest he'd ever seen; although, he couldn't be sure if that was because of his whiskey-hazed vision. Her make-up was surprisingly natural for the environment: just slightly deeper pink than he imagined her lips naturally being, and a gentle smoky eye shadow that gave her angled features an almost feline quality.

She wore a white, skin-tight dress that ended at her knees, but had a side slit that nearly reached her hip. The top of her dress was a simple Grecian-halter with a small keyhole accent just above her cleavage. Her legs were bare aside from a simple silver chain anklet that matched a single-charm bracelet she had on her right wrist. Her heels were only about two inches tall, close-toed, and understated aside from a rhinestone encrusted strap wrapping around her ankle just below the anklet.

Everything about this woman said she was going to a classy cocktail party in the more upscale part of Paris, not bouncing around like a sex-crazed university student on a smothering dance floor. Gabriel wondered why she was there. Then he remembered his own attire. He had simple khakis on with classic penny-loafers and a light teal sweater over a white tank top. She at least looked like she was intending to have a night out. He looked like he got lost on his way home from the university library.

She softly asked him something. He couldn't hear what she said with the concussive noise in the club, but he saw her lips moving. Before he realized what he was doing, he brushed his lips against her ear.

"Sorry, what did you say?"

A chill ran through his feverish body as her lips brushed his ear in turn.

"I asked if you were alright. You don't look so hot."

He blushed as he pulled away and bashfully nodded. "I'm fine," he shouted back at her over the music.

She pouted, and Gabriel felt his chest cave in on itself. She shook her head, and her blonde locks bounced off her left shoulder, sliding down her back.

"Come with me," she yelled back and laced her arm around his. She then slid through the crowd, with Gabriel in tow, like a current cutting through softened ground. While Gabriel still awkwardly bumped into people as they wove their way across the dance floor, this strange woman slipped past everyone without barely a brush against them.

She pushed open a door, and the cool breeze of the night air kissed Gabriel's skin. The music was so loud that the duo could still hear it as the door to the club's balcony closed behind them. Gabriel's head throbbed harder behind his right eye, but the fresh air was already starting to sober him back up a bit.

"There you go. This should get you all sorted out." The woman walked him over to the banister to lean on. The chill of the wrought-iron soothed the burning that had raced through his body.

"What made you think I needed sorting out in the first place?" Gabriel didn't mean to be callous, but his ridged voice made the question come out harsher than intended.

She didn't seem to notice, or at least mind. She leaned close to him, resting an elbow on the banister next to him, and cupping her jaw in her hand.

"Your face was about the shade of a tomato, and I was afraid you were going to pop as easily as one." She kept close to him and smiled. Her teeth were a perfect row of white the same shade as her dress.

"Um, well, thank you." Gabriel cleared his throat and shifted down the banister so the mystery woman wasn't as close.

"I'm Emilie," she offered, unmoving.

"Gabriel."

"So, Gabe, what brings you to this fine establishment?"

Gabriel was going to correct her – no one ever called him Gabe – but it sounded right coming from her. He _felt _like a Gabe when she called him that.

Still leaning forward slightly on the banister, she eyed him up; taking in his full look now that she had better lighting. "You don't look like someone ready for a night of dancing, or of wooing anyone. Couldn't find a cheaper spot for booze?"

Gabriel cleared his throat and tried not to look at her. The alcohol was making him warm enough without the additive of watching Emilie.

"What about you? You seem to be dressed up a bit more than expected for a night of clubbing." Even though he knew that was the proper term, he felt weird saying 'clubbing.' He was definitely out of his element.

"Eh, I had a date tonight," she sighed, finally shifting so that she was facing the banister; looking out over Paris. "Didn't go well, so I figured I'd pop in to see if this club could lift my spirits."

"Sorry to hear."

"You still didn't answer my question as to why you're here."

Gabriel stole a peek at his new companion. The throbbing behind his eye was all but gone, and the haze began to clear from his vision. Something about her kept him intoxicated though.

"Maybe I'm here to lift your spirits," he ventured.

A cockeyed grin stretched across her mouth. Then she threw back her head and laughed. A deep, stress-relieving, belly laugh. The sound was one of the greatest Gabriel had ever heard, and he couldn't resist a small chuckle himself.

Then she kissed him.

While he was still off guard, she had grabbed both sides of his face and pulled him into a quick kiss. A peck, really, but it made him dizzy all over again.

"Sorry, that was inappropriate." Emilie blushed and turned back to stare out at Paris.

"I don't know you," Gabriel dumbly replied.

"I know," she responded, a bit deflated.

"You don't know me, at least as far as I know."

"I don't know you," she grumbled softly. Her eyes screwed tight in disbelief of what she had just done.

"I may be a little drunk," Gabriel admitted, "I pretty much chugged a finger of whiskey before bolting out of the club and running into you."

"I figured as much. Not about the whiskey specifically, but-" She shrugged and sunk so her chin rested against her crossed arms.

"Did you really mean to kiss me just then?"

She shrugged a second time as she bit her lip. Her teeth pressing against the soft skin turned it a deeper pink, and Gabriel's heart stilled.

In a smooth motion, he scooped up her chin in his hand and brought her lips to his. Their second kiss was just as brief as the first as she pulled away with a gasp.

"I- um-" Gabriel stammered, his face burning as he wondered what he did wrong. He never could read social cues all that well, and he hated that he apparently misread this one.

Emilie lightly touched her lips, and stared up at him with shock. Gabriel mumbled a few more incoherent syllables before Emilie flung her arms around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.

A deeper kiss. A passionate kiss. A hungry kiss. A kiss that threw Gabriel off more than the first one did, but he was just as hungry. He found her waist with his hands, and held her as he shifted closer.

His hands then traveled to her lower back and the tendrils of hair that had slid off her shoulder. He pulled her in. He lost himself in her scent: lavender. The music faded to the background, but the bass gave them the rhythm for their hands and tongues to move in time with.

They broke away gasping.

"I think you succeeded in your reason for being here," Emilie whispered.

"In that case," Gabriel breathlessly replied, "I guess I just have to make sure I'm always around to lift your spirits, seeing as how I'm so good at it."

Emilie slid out of his arms and straightened his sweater. With a small smile, she pulled a pen out of her purse, and held out both it and her exposed left arm to him.

"Well then, perhaps you should give me your number so I know how to reach you the next time I need a pick-me-up."

He quickly jotted his number on the smooth skin of her arm, and held back the urge to seal it with kisses. He then rolled up his sleeve, and held his own arm out to her as he gave her back her pen.

"And yours?"

She clicked the pen closed and tucked it back into her purse.

"That you'll get when I call you." She winked and walked back into the club.


	2. Alone at a Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is what inspired me to just turn my "Tumblr Exclusive" short story "Stranger in a White Dress" into a full-fledged multi-chapter story. It was largely inspired by "I Don't Care" by Ed Sheeran. Originally, since the first chapter was inspired by "Play Me Like A Violin" by Stephen, and this chapter was inspired by "I Don't Care (acoustic)", I was going to have literally every new chapter in Gabriel and Emilie's romance be inspired/dedicated to a different song. However, this chapter barely covers the first verse of "I Don't Care", and, frankly, the full song pretty much describes how I picture their entire romance, not just a small part of it.
> 
> So, I did a bit of further reworking so "I Don't Care" became the core focus of the story. We'll see how this whole story progresses.

Of course she wasn't there. Why would she be?

Gabriel nodded his thanks to the rented bartender, and walked his glass of whiskey to the far side of the apartment great room. The party was in full swing. A party for someone Gabriel didn't even know. He hated that he let his flatmate Sylvain talk him into coming along. He didn't belong there. He belonged at home.

Or, perhaps with her.

The memory of a slinky white dress and golden Hollywood loose curls flashed in his mind. His phone number on a bare arm. The mysterious fleeing of an astonishing woman. She was his Cinderella, but she hadn't bothered to leave him a glass slipper.

Gabriel settled onto one of the few collapsible chairs scattered about the perimeter of the room. Around him, people were dancing, and laughing, and joking with each other, and catching up on wild tales, and even making out. He didn't want any part of it. In a room stuffed with people, he was alone.

The majority of the party loomed before him. The small rented bar and accompanying bartender were in the opposite corner, past the picture windows and French doors to the balcony. Off to Gabriel's right was the main entrance, constantly flowing with party-goers. There was a chance he'd be able to sneak out unnoticed via the crowd, but if he got bogged down at all Sylvain could spot him and wrangle him back into the party. The hallway behind his left shoulder lead to the bathroom and bedrooms. Gabriel could sneak back to one of them. There had to be an emergency exit; a fire escape or something. He could use that.

Except it was probably off one of the bedrooms, which were all most likely preoccupied already by some promiscuous twenty-somethings enjoying their youth. Something Sylvain swore Gabriel should also be doing.

Gabriel took a sip of his drink. It wasn't top-shelf whiskey, but it was at least smooth with a nice flavor to it. Also, it was free; thank god for hosts who had the decency to set up open bars. Eyeing up the crowd once more, Gabriel plotted his excuse for Sylvain. Would he even notice Gabriel's retreat? He'd most likely go home with at least one person at the party, and wouldn't be bothered to check for when Gabriel made it to the flat. He could just tell Sylvain that he made it home around two. That seemed customary for one to enjoy a "night out."

Maybe he'd go to that club again instead of going home. Could he meet her there a second time? What would the odds be of that? What if she were a university student? Should he walk the campus and hope she's on one of the great lawns? Would he seem like a creep if he did?

First, he had to get out of this blasted apartment.

"Don't have much diversity in your wardrobe, huh?"

Gabriel startled. Something about the voice rang familiar; a tone that he couldn't quite shake out of his head for the past week. He turned, and standing by his right shoulder was the blonde woman he met at the club; the woman he was just thinking of, the woman he couldn't stop thinking about: Emilie.

She had her hair in a ponytail this time, and she wore a simple, Merlot-colored, off-shoulder, long-sleeve t-shirt covered by a deep-dyed, fitted jean vest. Her matching skinny jeans were tucked into black knee-high stiletto boots. A thick, black choker with a silver heart charm dangling from it wrapped around her neck. She looked casual and dressed up at the same time, the gorgeousness of someone who just "threw something on."

She held her warm smile for a few more seconds, but when Gabriel didn't respond, her face fell.

"Oh. Right. The whiskey. You probably don't remem-"

"I definitely remember you." With Gabriel's hand on his lap, he was actually about even with Emilie's hand, which was dangling temptingly by her side. His hand inched across his thigh as he debated wrapping his pinkie around her index finger. Would it be too forward for him to reach out and take her hand? She did kiss him within five minutes of them meeting. Gabriel had no clue what the protocol was for their relationship, if one could even call it that.

Emilie's smile returned, and she sat in the chair to Gabriel's left, forcing him to pivot again to keep eye contact.

"You look like you're having a good time," she teased.

Gabriel huffed. "Flatmate's idea. He's under some impression that he's in charge of my social life, and that I don't have enough of one."

"I have no clue where he could get that idea when you clearly give off such party-animal vibes." Emilie gestured at Gabriel's khakis and rust-colored cable-knit sweater over a white button-down.

"That's true." A smile started tugging at the corners of Gabriel's mouth. "Did you know, a sweater fairly similar to this very one got me ambushed by a complete stranger last Saturday?"

Emilie laughed as a pleasant blush pinked her cheeks. "What can I say? Thick sweaters are like catnip to me."

They shared a short laugh. Emilie inched closer, and crossed her left leg over her right knee. As she settled, her left toes brushed against Gabriel's shin.

"So, tell me about this flatmate of yours. He just kick you out the door like at cat at night?"

"No. He's here. Dragged me with him to this party."

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" Emilie popped upright, planting both feet to the floor. Gabriel instantly missed the feel of her boot against his leg. "I didn't realize he could go invisible!" She leaned around Gabriel, to where she was standing when she greeted him. "How do you do, Mr. Flatmate." She smiled at the air.

"What on earth are you doing?" Gabriel glanced past his shoulder – half expecting to actually see his flatmate standing there – before staring back at Emilie. "Of course he's not invisible, what kind of nonsense is that?"

"Well." Emilie squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest. "I thought to myself 'Gabe's flatmate brought him here, and yet I don't see him. So either he abandoned his flatmate while at this party, or he's invisible and I was rude to have ignored him this long.' I simply went with the more pleasant answer." The right side of her mouth curled up in a playful smile.

Gabriel laughed and shook his head. He took another sip of his drink before using the rocks glass to gesture towards the cleared out living room floor. A small mob of party goers were dancing, but they were too tightly packed for Gabriel to find Sylvain within the pack.

"He's in there. Somewhere."

"Did he even last ten minutes before lassoing some cutie to grind against?"

Gabriel choked on his sip of whiskey, coughing it back into his glass. He let out a few more chuckles.

"It's fine," Gabriel told her lightly. "It just means I can sneak away without him realizing I cut out early."

"Oh? You're leaving so soon? But I just re-found you."

"Well, I-"

"We can't have that." Emilie stood up and grabbed Gabriel's drink from his hand. "Whiskey again?"

Gaping, Gabriel slowly nodded. Emilie shrugged, and then downed the rest of his drink.

"What are you-?"

Emilie placed Gabriel's now-empty glass down, grabbed his hand, and tugged him out to the dance floor.

"Come on, you have to at least have some fun before you run away."

"Who said I wasn't having some fun just now?" Just like the first night they met, Emilie easily flowed through the crowd, whereas Gabriel, dragged behind her, bounced off nearly every person they passed.

"We didn't dance at the club. We should dance here." She halted to the right of the crowd. Her chest rose and fell like she was panting, even though they didn't do anything terribly strenuous.

"First of all, we didn't dance because you mysteriously disappeared back onto the dance floor without me, and without so much as a proper goodbye. Secondly, I don't dance."

"Alright. I accept your first point, but I refuse to believe the second one. Everyone dances, even if it's goofily while alone in their bedrooms."

"I do structured dances; ballroom dances."

"_Ballroom?"_ Emilie nearly screamed with surprise. "Alright, _that_ I definitely have to see. I doubt they'll let us put on Chopin, however. Either way, it still means that you do indeed have a sense of rhythm. So, come on, don't be shy."

She started bobbing her head and shuffling her shoulders to the synth beat of the club music playing. Adding in some snaps on the downbeats, she wiggled her hips. Raising her hands over her head, Emilie slinked around Gabriel as she danced. As her hip passed his, she bumped them. With a quick spin behind his back, she bumped his other hip with hers, then continued to dance in front of him.

Gabriel was thrown off balance with each hip bump, and not just literally. The contact from her short-circuited him each time. All he could manage was dumbly watching her dance before him. Suddenly, he once more wondered what he was doing at that party; with her. At the same time though, he didn't wish to be anywhere else.

"Well?" Emilie giggled, "Are you joining in?"

Gabriel bashfully shook his head. "I told you, I don't dance."

"Actually, quite the contrary. You just told me that you _do_ dance. So let's see it." She then smirked and grabbed each of Gabriel's hands. "Here, I'll even help you get started." She altered pumping each of their arms over their heads, then she leaned away from him so she could wiggle their arms as if they were swinging double-dutch rope.

"What are you doing?" Gabriel laughed.

"Helping you dance to prove that you can do it. Your shoulders are still a bit stiff though." She dropped his hands and instead grabbed his shoulders to shake them to the rhythm.

He laughed harder and grabbed her hips to try to stop her. Instead, she smirked and rocked her hips more enthusiastically. Her own hands shifted from his shoulders to the sides of his chest in an attempt to get that to move as well.

"We look ridiculous." Gabriel shook his head, and stubbornly didn't move his feet.

"Exactly! That's how you know we're having fun."

"Okay, enough 'fun' though." Gabriel chuckled and pulled her against him so she had no room to keep moving. It kept him a second too long to realize what he had just done.

They stilled as they stared at each other, their arms wrapped around each other's backs. Somehow, Emilie's jade eyes seemed a richer green than Gabriel remembered. The scent of lavender enveloped him. His body burned, and their chests rose and fell in sync.

A smooth jazz song with an electronic bass started up, causing the crowd to slow down and pinch close to each other.

Very much like how Gabriel and Emilie already were.

The song was in three-quarter measure, and had a sultry flow to the notes. Gabriel eased at the familiarity of the rhythm. He pulled Emilie's left hand off his back, and placed it on his right shoulder. He then tugged gently on her right elbow to coax that hand off his back as well. Sliding his fingers down her right forearm, he took her hand in his.

"Gabe?"

He smiled and gave her a quick wink. Mentally counting the start of the next measure, he began twirling her around their little circle of the floor. He smoothly lead her in a simple waltz. There was more space between them then there was a moment before, but somehow it felt more intimate; dancing with her like that. Her eyes enlarged and sparkled as a grin grew wider and wider across her face.

"Does this mean I know how to dance the waltz as well?" Emilie teased.

"It means you have a good partner."

She bit her lip as her smile kept crawling up her face. "I do, do I?"

Gabriel blushed and averted his gaze. Emilie quickly cupped his chin in her left hand, and redirected it back towards her. Running her fingers along his jawline, she then brought her hand back to his shoulder so they could continue dancing.

"Tell me about this mysterious flatmate of yours. Why does he feel like he's your keeper, and why the need to force socialization onto you?"

"He's one of those exhausting people-persons who needs stimulation every waking moment, and he's quite confused as to how I can enjoy our little flat, and be content with just my drafting table. So he shoves me out into the world and demands I take part in it."

"Drafting table? Are you some sort of architect then?"

"Fashion designer. Aspiring, at least."

Emilie leaned further away from him, eyed up his outfit, and giggled.

"Please tell me this isn't one of your designs."

"What's wrong with it?"

Emilie grew red, and pulled against Gabriel's hold, trying to shrink away from him. "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to insult you, I just figured the outfit was sort of plain, especially for a party like this. But I'm wearing a t-shirt, so I shouldn't judge what's fashionable. It was so insensitive of me, I just-"

Gabriel burst into a laugh. "I was just joking." Emilie backhanded his shoulder, and Gabriel reflexively muttered 'ow.' He laughed a bit more at her surly pout, but quickly settled. "I focus mostly on women's clothing designs, although you are probably right that I should start dressing the part a bit more myself. I might have to branch out into men's clothes as well."

Emilie's head slowly rocked side-to-side as she studied him. "You know, your blue eyes are almost a silver color."

"They are?"

"Yep. You would look really sharp in an ivory, or maybe a nice royal purple. It would really make your eyes pop."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, really."

Gabriel pressed gently on Emilie's back, directing her into a spin under his arm. He held her at arm's length, and she leaned away from him, waiting to be pulled back in.

"Why did you let him bring you here? Your flatmate. If you weren't going to enjoy yourself at this party, then why come? Why not stay at your drafting table designing the next great fashion trend?"

Gabriel tugged gently to again spin Emilie under his arm, and caught her back in the standard waltzing pose.

"He was persistent. Also, perhaps a part of me hoped I would stumble into you again."

"You didn't even know I'd be here. I bet you can't tell me who invited me to this party."

"That's true, but it had been a week, and clearly you didn't need more cheering up. So, I decided to leave our meeting up to Fate, and Fate seems to have delivered."

"So you're saying it pays to leave the flat every now and again."

"In this one instance, yes, but don't let my flatmate know, otherwise I'll never get any rest."

"I'll be sure to avoid the topic, however I still don't know who your flatmate even is."

"Good. We should keep it at that."

"Afraid he'll whisk me away?"

"More that he'd scare you away. He's a bit... intense."

"Damn extroverts."

"Precisely."

Emilie giggled as the song ended. Tucking a non-existent stray strand of hair behind her ear, she tugged on Gabriel's hand. Silently, he allowed her to lead him out onto the balcony.

"You have a thing with balconies, don't you?" Gabriel hung back by the door as Emilie continued towards the railing.

"I enjoy taking in Paris. Your flatmate is right; you need to be out in this glorious city, not trapped inside with a drafting table. How could you not be inspired by all of this?" She swung her arms wide as they overlooked a sea of dazzling lights.

"It's not much different than the view I have by my drafting table. I did make sure to place it by a window."

"But it's not just the view! It's the people! The _experience_ that is Paris!"

"The experience? You sound like a tourist."

"That's the point!" Emilie grabbed his hands and pulled him to the railing. She then gestured out towards the grand view, pointing to a large spire poking out in the distance on their left. "The majesty of the Eiffel Tower." She then pivoted Gabriel to face to their right. "The romance of the Love Locks on Pont des Arts." She stretched in front of him, pointing to the large tower looming just past their peripheral on their right. "The breathtaking views of Paris seen from atop Montparnasse." Gesturing to her left again, she pointed in a vague direction. "The history of the Place de la Concorde."

"You don't know where the Place is, do you?"

"Eh, it's over there somewhere." She wiggled her fingers roughly straight ahead. "I'm not the best with cardinal directions. I do know it's to the east of the Eiffel Tower."

Gabriel smiled, keeping his eyes on Emilie instead of the view she was trying to show off.

"But it truly is the _people_ of Paris that makes this city special. You _have_ to walk among them; greet them; rub elbows with them-"

"Kiss them?"

Emilie blushed. "Uh, about that. I didn't mean-" She turned towards Gabriel, and found him pressed against her side. "-to, uh, offend." Gabriel leaned in, and her blush deepened. "I'm sorry I never called you."

"Did you not want to?"

"No. I did. I wanted to so badly."

"You don't seem the type to hold back when you want something."

"You had been drinking. I didn't know if you'd want to hear from me again. Didn't know if you would even remember me."

"I don't think I could ever forget you." He ran his hand across the railing, and rested it on top of hers.

Emilie's eyes darted to his hand, then back up to meet his intense gaze. Her hand grew hot under his. Her lips parted slightly; welcomingly. Gabriel ran his index finger across the edge of Emilie's swooped bangs, following their line to her ear. He then brushed his thumb down the side of her face, their eyes never breaking contact. His thumb continued across her chin, and stopped just below her lips. He could feel the gloss of her lipstick, and wondered if it tasted of anything. Maybe the remnants of his whiskey that she had downed before they danced.

Emilie closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and reached out to kiss the tip of Gabriel's lingering thumb. It made his own breath catch.

"We both had some whiskey this time," Gabriel whispered.

Emilie hummed in response.

"I don't think that's why I feel drunk though," he continued.

Emilie's breath was sharp and loud. Her eyes darted open, and her hand wrapped around the nape of Gabriel's neck, pulling him hungrily down to her. Gabriel's hand quickly shifted to Emilie's back so his thumb wouldn't be in the way.

She seemed so tiny in his hands, and yet she was so fierce. He still barely knew her, but he wanted to more than anything else in the world. Every second he was with her, he craved more. He hated the world, hated being in it, but he'd gladly stand in the middle of a crowded Tokyo if it was to be with her.

He didn't understand what his appeal was to her, but he'd figure that out as well. He'd learn everything about her. He'd spend the rest of his life as her student; mastering every nuance, every scent, every movement, every tone, every kindness, every flaw; everything that made up Emilie.

They pulled apart after Gabriel had no clue how long, but he knew it was too soon. He rested his forehead against hers, his thumb running across the hand still tucked under his.

"I think you should give me your number this time, since clearly you can't be trusted to pick up a phone."

"Does that mean you'll leave your Fortress of Solitude again; join society?"

"As long as it means spending time with you."

She smiled and pulled away from him. She slinked her hand free of his, and held it palm up to him.

"In that case, I hope you have a pen on you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, that I've spoiled everyone by posting this story as a two-chapter upload, who knows when I'll be inspired to write another chapter? Feel free to leave a comment about what you think of their romance, and what some of your own headcanons are. I'd love to check them out. Any that inspire me will be noted in my A/N.
> 
> Also, as always, thank you so much for reading. Take care!

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter was inspired by the song "Play Me Like A Violin" by Stephen, and it was originally a "Tumblr Exclusive" since I THOUGHT it was a one-shot, and it was only about 2000 words long. It was even posted on Tumblr back in like June of 2018; so it was over a year before I became inspired to continue writing Gabriel/Emilie romance.
> 
> Then, towards the start of August 2019, I heard the acoustic version of Ed Sheeran's song "I Don't Care". At first, the song made me think of my husband, but slowly it morphed into me thinking of Gabriel and Emilie again. Finally, the nagging images overwhelmed me, and I decided to expand upon the universe I created in "Stranger in a White Dress."
> 
> Again, I have no clue how frequently I'll update, but if you want a casual-update story, this is the one for you. Enjoy Gabriel not being a complete jerkface.


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